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My Fore-Elders
When from the child, that still is led
By hand, a father's hand is gone, ---
Or when a few-year'd mother dead
Has left her children growing on, ---
When men have left their children staid,
And they again have boy and maid, ---
O, can they know, as years may roll,
Their children's children, soul by soul?
If this with souls in heaven can be,
Do my fore-elders know of me?
My elders' elders, man and wife,
Were borne full early to the tomb,
With children still in childhood life
To play with butterfly or bloom.
And did they see the seasons mould
Their faces on, from young to old,
As years might bring them, turn by turn,
A time to laugh or time to mourn?
If this with souls in heaven can be,
Do my fore-elders know of me?
How fain I now would walk the floor
Within their mossy porch's bow,
Or linger by their church's door,
Or road that bore them to and fro,
Or nook where once they build their mow,
Or gateway open to their plough
(Though now indeed no gate is swung
That their live hands had ever hung ), ---
If I could know that they would see
Their child's late child, and know of me.
poem by William Barnes
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Todays Child
A child grows with time, and time changes,
But does the child change?
Yes, he changes
But how does he change?
A child’s future depends on his people, his elders, his friends
The world today decides the future of the child
Look upon the child, see him, hear him, and understand him
Do not ignore the child and destroy him.
poem by Joy Lovelet Crawford
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Rabid Child
Lord, please dont take me away.
Rabid child stays at home, talks on a cb
Truckers pass calling out their handles to the kid
Chess piece face and the big duluth call her every day
Hammer down and rabbit ears are the only words they know
Hammer down
Hammer down, rabbit ears
Hammer down, rabbit ears
Hammer down, rabbit ears, hammer down
If you pass the rabid child say hammer down for me
The rabid child
The rabid child
The rabid child
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sadness into one Heart
Sadness into one Heart
as child we look up to our
elders we teach from them
watch the steam a rose bloom
that is how a child bring up
to watch the sadness of child
bring tears to the parents
we shine for a while now these
days we watch our babies grow
up but some children are still
a child them as they still babies
themselves child heart beats
little heart wonder how there
future holds when you walk outside
all I saw is buggies everywhere
to see the sadness of a child
is not ready to be having a baby
on themselve prayers go out
to them and strenth they would have
sadness by a child and a parent
poem by Annamaria Bicego
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If a child's hands are clean, he can eat with elders.
The Younger Ones
The younger ones,
Do not wish any part of it.
The fragmentation solicited...
Or the family divisiveness.
They have witnessed what the elders have done.
And this has made many of them turn away quick.
Because the younger ones wish,
Not to have any of the negative rifts!
They have witnessed what the elders have done.
And the elders are the ones that do not get it!
The younger ones,
Do not wish any part of this.
In their hearts and in their minds,
The youngers ones may not express it.
But their actions are quite dramatic.
And observing that is obvious and emphatic.
The younger ones have had it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who ever converses among old books will be hard to please among the new.
quote by William Temple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When a child knows how to wash his hands well, he eats with the elders.
Every man becomes, to a certain degree, what the people he generally converses with are.
quote by Robert Motherwell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The man as he converses is the lover; silent, he is the husband.
quote by Honore De Balzac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Six-Toed Tina
There was a young queen who knew a boy's love,
who ruled a great yard and led a small pride.
From her extra toes to her noble ears,
she was incongruent in scope and size.
Yet her purr was the world to one odd child,
for whom every word was a bur unfair.
Calico and beige, with a mange unfair,
she appeared unkept and bereft of love.
Even the boy, so different a child,
was led astray by his diffident pride,
and couldn't quite take her strange paws and size,
until loving rubs made him scratch her ears.
Satiny soft- those tall Bastet-like ears-
made her nightly hunts endeavors unfair,
for Tina teased out sounds tiny in size-
even large rodents in the throes of love-
and dragged them writhing to the grateful pride,
who devoured them whole in front of the child.
Then something died deep inside that strange child,
as a slate of new sounds pricked up his ears.
He sought sensation and elusive pride-
baring it all yet becoming unfair.
Cool was he, and insensitive to love,
paying no heed to it's presence or size.
Yes, women- not felines- zero in size-
became the prize for this once awkward child,
who delighted himself in faking love
'til news of Tina at last touched his ears,
and life was again an affair unfair,
ruled by the cruel and their f***ed up pride.
So clutching her image, he faced the pride,
dreaming of justice, caliber and size,
and what he'd do to those humans unfair-
but now he was grown and not a small child,
and his soul soon mellowed as did his ears.
He'd bury poor Tina and try to love.
Dark days unfair would again test his pride,
but knowing of love would limit their size,
and the child moved on with enlightened ears.
poem by Taylor Rosewood
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Vow Of Silence
Kron joins the monastery;
he must stay in isolation
and is allowed to say 2 words
every three years
3 years pass
and Kron is brought before
the Elders
and he is allowed his 2 words
“Cold room, ” he says
3 years later
again Kron is brought before
the Elders
and he is allowed his 2 words
“Bad food, ” he says
3 years later
again Kron is brought before
the Elders
and he is allowed his 2 words
“I quit, ” he says
“Not surprising, ” say the Elders
“All you have done since you came here is to complain”
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Polygamy Dillema
My Elders, listen to me
By your feet, who listened, was me
Atrophy, you got me,
She, a virgin land, and fertile
that, your names have come
and their faces, stars glow, a like.
Elders, listen to me
That, my hands I fold, down is my knee
A trophy, I have got for me
In her, my blood flows, Listen to me,
Through her eyes, I see, her heart holds me
Serene, a lone, naïve,
Other glowing stars, a promise.
Elders, listen to me
That your choice
As my choice
The same.
That none to her lands would go
Listen, the turn is mine, you do?
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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The old is with lust unspent
Elders rather than lads are thirsty of women.
Elders’ desire accumulates for want of drain
Owing to their sagging physical energy.
The old is always a threat to young women.
06.10.2000
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Red Dragon
Of a great red dragon,
Having seven heads and ten horns;
Of a great red dragon,
Having seven crowns upon her heads;
But, the twenty-four Elders need peace at their seats.
Of the red dragon,
Like the time of the dead!
And there arose a smoke out of the pit,
For she who is with a child is labouringh in pain;
And the red dragon is ready to take up the child!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Older Than
You are not older than your parents who gave birth to you!
Neither are you older than the elders in town;
So, try to listen to your parents and the words of the elders,
Because life is full of rules!
And you may easily burn your hands if you do not listen to them.
Life is full of experiences,
And experience is the best teacher!
That is why you have to listen to your parents and your elders,
Because they have had enough life experiences! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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It is the duty of children to wait on elders, and not the elders on children.
Think of the child
What will elders think? What will colleagues think?
What will families and relations think?
Such feelings are gone from women’s brain.
Dating is frequent; mating is common.
Marriage and virginity are redundant.
Lovers are changed as friends are changed.
No woman is exclusive to any man.
The society’s appeal to women:
Be true to your mate whom you bore a child
And let the child identifies its father.
Your progeny must grow on a healthy ground.
02.01.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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But For Eyes, What Are Men?
Man touches woman by eyes,
With which he X-rays her parts,
With which he converses with her
And with which he cans her in brain
For later visualization.
But for eyes, men will be impotent.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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